Page 12 of Sinful Beauty

“I’ve worked with her long enough that I know how she works. And now she wants me to train her son so he can take over my role.”

“Isn’t retirement in your near-term plans?”

“I don’t want to be forced out.” I’ve not heard Mr. Peltz this emotional ever. “Not after everything I’ve given to this company.”

Graeme chuckles. It’s a hearty, full on belly laugh. Not for the first time, I wish he were my boss. Nothing gets to him. He’s what I imagine my father might’ve been like had circumstances been different.

“Graeme…” Exasperation coats the one word. “You left the door ajar.”

Steps approach, quick and firm.

The gap widens, and Mr. Pelz appears.

“Lucia?”

“Sir?” I do my best to paste on a blank face. They often have meetings with the door ajar, so I’m unsure why he appears so agitated with me.

“Good. Just…” he releases a pained sigh and points a finger down the hall. “Just past there, the empty office we use for storage?”

“Yes?” I ask as brightly as possible.

“Clean it out and prepare it for a new executive.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call down to IT and have them set up a computer.”

“And you said executive level, sir?”

“Yes, that’s right. We have a new executive.”

“Name sir? And title?”

I pick up a pen and let it hover over a notepad.

He opens the door wider to afford me a view of Graeme sitting in a guest chair.

“What title should I give him?”

“Director of Research.” He shrugs like it’s simple. “You have many of those. Why should he have a different title than the others?”

“Right.” He addresses me with a simple, “His name is Tristan Wagner. Title Director of Research. Tell IT to set him up like we would any other employee at the director level.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Lucia?” Graeme calls from his seated position.

I lean forward and raise my voice, “Yes?”

“I’ll have Elizabeth handle everything from the HR side, alright dear? She’ll be in touch shortly.”

“Of course.”

“Why are you placing him so close to you?” Graeme asks as the solid door closes.

“To keep an eye on him.” As if aware I heard that, Mr. Pelz glances over his shoulder at me. “He’s not known for his work ethic.”

The heavy door clicks closed, and I’m left with the need to shout a thousand hail Marys.

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